


Home is a Feeling (I Buried in You)

by Whtevrhpnd2mary



Category: Game Grumps, Ninja Sex Party (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - 1980s, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Angst, Death, Depression, Flashbacks, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Instability, Past Relationship(s), Second Chances, Serial Killers, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-18 19:32:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12394716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whtevrhpnd2mary/pseuds/Whtevrhpnd2mary
Summary: "I take it he's in the basement for a reason, then?" Ross asked, and from Barry's look, he knew he'd gauged the situation correctly. The elevator let out another loud "ding" and the door opened. The dim hall stretching before Ross felt suddenly intimidating. Barry stacked the box in his hand back on top of Ross' own before bending to retrieve the rest on the floor. As they stepped from the lift, he spoke again, voice soft and sad."Brian used to be a great guy," he started, and fixed a pointed look on Ross, "but he's...difficult to work with these days."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My unfinished entry for the 2016 Game Grumps Big Bang, broken into parts, hopefully to be completed. Title is from the song "Breathe" by Greenwheel.

"So, how long have you been in the states?"

Ross O'Donovan peered up over the boxes he had balanced precariously in his arms as he walked, seeing the back of Detective Barry Kramer's head as he led them through the cramped office space of the police station. 

"Only about eighteen months, actually," Ross responded, trying to both take in the room around him and keep from tripping over any of a number of potential hazards in his crowded footpath. "But most of that was in New York City." 

The detective grunted in response as he turned down a corridor with the new arrival. They walked in silence for several steps before Ross felt the need to fill the space again.

"I hear it's fairly quiet out here," he commented casually, leading the other man in hopes of a glimmer of information.

"Yeah," Barry answered lowly. There was an awkward pause, and when he continued, his voice carried a strange edge. "Yeah, most of the time, I guess it's pretty quiet."

Ross caught the odd tone, filing it away as something he may need to inquire about later. Before he could say anything more, they arrived at an elevator door. Barry came to a stop in front of Ross, lowering the box he carried to the floor and hitting the "B" button on the wall.

"I thought homicide was down that hall," Ross questioned, motioning off to his left with his head. Barry turned to face him, taking one of the boxes from Ross' hands while eyeing him with a scrutinizing look.

"Well, we're a bit low on space right now," Barry responded, "and your partner likes to be...left alone. So, he volunteered to move to the basement." 

Ross couldn't miss the hesitancy in the other man's voice. He was about to open his mouth to ask him to elaborate when the elevator let out a loud "ding" and the door opened in front of them. They shuffled in, Ross pushing the box on the floor with his foot onto the waiting lift.

Ever since he'd arrived, Ross had been given what he could only call sympathetic looks from the other officers and detectives in the building. He'd been assigned this new post, in some quiet part of upstate New York, as a punishment for pissing off a couple of the wrong people back in the city. Ross had assumed the idea was that the slow pace would bore him to distraction.

Now however, with others' odd behavior surrounding him all morning, he was beginning to wonder what he hadn't been told.

There was tense silence for a few moments, broken only by the whir of the old lift motor, before Ross forced the issue, turning to face the man standing next to him.

"Look, is there something wrong?" Ross asked, a bit of satisfaction hitting him when Barry visibly winced at the inquiry. "Is it that you guys don't like foreigners here or some shit like that? Becau-"

"No!" Barry whipped his head around, cutting Ross off before he could speculate any more. "No, it's nothing like that."

"Then what? I'm not an idiot, you know. It's obvious something's going on." Ross' voice betrayed his frustration. He was already not looking forward to this assignment; the last thing he needed were more surprises.

Barry reached out, hitting the hold button on the elevator panel. He rubbed a hand over his face before letting out a long sigh and meeting Ross' eyes. Ross raised his eyebrows, surprised by the sudden change of the mood, a heaviness that rapidly descended.

"How much do you know about your new partner?" Barry asked, sounding resigned. 

"Uh, nothing really, other than his name," Ross responded, recovering himself finally. "I normally would have done a little research, but I didn't even know where I was going until yesterday morning." He looked away for a moment, frowning, and continued in a lower voice. "Let's just say a few people at my last posting didn't like me too much. But, I thought it was the location that was the punishment. No offense."

Barry huffed out a wry laugh, shaking his head.

"Detective Wecht is a seasoned cop, been with the force a long time, seen a lot of shit. He used to work in the city, like you, but he took a position here about six years ago." Barry paused for a moment, looking up and away from Ross, staring at the elevator door but clearly seeing something else. "His long time partner transferred here too, claimed he needed a break from the rat race." 

Ross stood there, the pit of his stomach filling with bile. He had a horrible suspicion where this was headed, and was now unsure he wanted to hear it at all. When Barry finally continued, gaze once again on Ross, his voice was slightly rougher.

"Almost three years ago, his partner was killed."

Ross swallowed and waited, anticipation heavy within him. It wasn't exactly everyday for a cop to be killed in the line of duty, especially a detective, but it's not like it was anything overly shocking either. He knew the pause was for his own benefit, that something much worse was coming.

"He wasn't found for three days." Barry cleared his throat, unable to meet Ross' eyes anymore. "He was the victim of a serial killer the two of them had been investigating for quite a while."

Barry looked like he wanted to say so much more, and Ross immediately felt he had to know everything before he could meet this man he was about to work with every day, though based on the reactions so far, he wondered if he wanted to know at all. They were both acutely aware that they didn't have the time and this wasn't the place, in a held up elevator. Barry hit the button, and the lift lurched to life again.

"I take it he's in the basement for a reason, then?" Ross asked, and from Barry's look, he knew he'd gauged the situation correctly. The elevator let out another loud "ding" and the door opened. The dim hall stretching before Ross felt suddenly intimidating. Barry stacked the box in his hand back on top of Ross' own before bending to retrieve the rest on the floor. As they stepped from the lift, he spoke again, voice soft and sad.

"Brian used to be a great guy," he started, and fixed a pointed look on Ross, "but he's...difficult to work with these days."

If Ross was expecting more, he got nothing, Barry letting what he'd already said sink in as he turned and proceeded down the hall. The walk was completed in silence, both men lost in their thoughts. Ross tried to digest this new, unexpected chunk of knowledge, his dread of what he'd gotten himself into growing with each step. When Barry stopped in front of him, Ross nearly bumped into him he was so distracted.

An old wooden door with a fogged glass window was cracked open, the soft glow of a desk lamp visible in the low, flickering fluorescent light of the hall. Ross placed his boxes on the floor as Barry rested the box in his arms on his knee for a moment while lightly knocking on the window pane.

"Brian?" Barry called, "Your new partner just arrived." 

Ross could hear some low grumbling from inside the office, picking out an annoyed tone but unable to make out more than one or two curses. 

Barry continued, clarifying, "I've got him with me. You want to just figure out his location situation?" Hearing no other protests, Barry pushed the door open with his shoulder, leading Ross inside. 

The room was quite small, likely an old converted storage room, with just enough space to fit a large desk and a few filing cabinets and still be able to walk around them. Ross was immediately struck at how bare the room was, particularly the walls, with not even a diploma or certificate displayed. In fact, nothing at all seemed personal about the office, everything necessary and in place. Even the desk had only one picture frame decorating it.

The man sitting at the desk didn't look up when they entered, busily scribbling away at some report. Barry sighed heavily, resting the box in his hands on the edge of the desk. The move didn't have the desired effect, as the older man only paused in his writing for a moment in annoyance before continuing.

"I don't really want to bait you like this Brian," Barry said tiredly, "but where do you want him?" Fortunately for him, Brian refused to comment on it this time as he had in the past.

"Kramer," Brian began in a clipped tone, "where do we usually put the 'latest victim'?" He didn't so much as glance away from his report, flipping the next page as he spoke.

"In the nearest unoccupied room large enough to fit a desk," Barry answered, his response clearly memorized from previous conversations. He spared an apologetic look at Ross.

"And which room would that be right now?" Brian asked, voice not so subtly patronizing. Barry rolled his eyes, refusing to completely play the game after having gone through this multiple times before.

"Don't you at least want to get a look at him?" he asked frustratedly. He'd brought Ross in so that they could meet, and he knew Brian was aware of that. Still, Barry was almost surprised when the pen stopped moving and Brian tilted his head slightly in his co-worker's direction, eyeing Barry bitterly before turning to face Ross.

For his part, Ross had remained mostly neutral faced during the exchange, doing his best not to reveal what he already thought of his new assignment. But he still couldn't help being unnerved when his new partner fixed an intense stare upon him, a set of cold, steel blue eyes scrutinizing him thoroughly, if briefly. The man looked worn, his hair and beard full of enough gray to make him look older than what Ross had been told he was, though his expression and stance were closed beyond the air of disapproval that seemed to hang between them in the moment.

"O'Donovan, is it?" Brian asked suddenly, his gruff voice bringing Ross back from his thoughts. He stepped forward.

"Sargent Ross O'Donovan," he responded with more confidence than he felt, offering a hand over the desk. Brian merely glanced at the appendage as if he couldn't imagine why it was there, before lowering his head and picking up the report where he'd left off.

"Across the hall. Get your things set up, I'll bring over some work for you later."

Ross lowered his hand with a frown, turning to Barry, who only shook his head and motioned for Ross to follow him as he hefted the box again and left the office. Ross spared a backward glance at Brian, still face down in papers and not acknowledging them, before stepping out and pulling the door back to its original position. He bent down to retrieve his things, hearing the click of a key in a lock as Barry opened the office behind him.

"At least the desk is in here already, we won't have to move furniture this time," Barry commented as they entered. The office was even tinier than Brian's, likely another, smaller converted closet. Barry set the box down on the desk and turned, taking in Ross' forlorn expression as he examined his new work space. "I'm sorry, I know it's probably not exactly what you're used to."

Ross snapped his head around, so lost in thought he almost forgot the other man was there. He huffed out a breath, waving a hand in Barry's direction.

"No, it's fine, I wasn't really expecting a red carpet or anything..." He trailed off.

"Well, take your time getting settled in," Barry said only a little awkwardly, "I'm sure it'll take him a while to actually get around to you anyway. I'll try to check on you before the end of the day, but if you need something, come upstairs and see me." He patted Ross on the shoulder, expression earnest, and handed over a key to the office before he walked to the door.

"Hey Barry?" Ross called out, making Barry turn around in the doorway. "Is he always like that?" he finished lamely, staring down at his desk.

"No," Barry answered, "this was actually a pretty good day, all things considered."

Ross grimaced, cursing at himself, clenching his fists to keep from smacking the desk. He swung around to face the other man.

"How many partners has he had in the last two and half years?"

Barry couldn't quite look at him as he responded.

"You're number five."

Ross groaned inwardly, scrubbing his face with his hand.

"Fucking great."  
____________________

 

Several hours later, Ross was sitting in his desk chair, drumming his hands on the desktop. He had put away all his things, arranged his sparse office furniture around twice and walked the building and grounds multiple times to learn the complete layout. Still, he hadn't heard a word from his new partner. Now it was nearly time to leave and Ross had reached his waiting limit. He pushed his seat back, getting up, with intent to go back to Brian's office and find out what the hold up was.

Before he could walk around the desk, Brian walked into his office, a small stack of folders in his hand. He dropped the pile onto Ross' desk unceremoniously.

"The last few months' worth of reports. Your predecessor wasn't much of a typist, and I haven't had time to catch up with them," Brian stated without preamble, and just as quickly turned to leave. Ross stood dumbfounded for a few moments but recovered before the other man could go.

"Whoa, wait a minute!" Ross blurted out, unable to hide his astonishment. Brian stopped, waiting but not bothering to face his new partner. "Are you saying that you want me to just type up all your reports?" His tone was both bewildered and indignant; Ross honestly couldn't believe he'd been left waiting all day for this. Brian slowly spun around, fixing Ross with a look of bare tolerance.

"I believe that's what my statement clearly implied, yes."

Ross could only stare back, wide-eyed and speechless for several seconds. The expression goaded Brian into action, as he shook his head with irritation and strode forward again, meeting Ross eye for eye across the desk.

"Look O'Donovan, let me make this as simple as possible for you. I know why you're here. We both know you don't want to be here, and we both know I don't want you here. So, make it easy on yourself." Brian leaned forward a bit, tone laced with a subtle sarcasm. "Keep quiet, do what I tell you and serve out your 'sentence' here with me and you can get on with your life and forget about this place. If you're lucky, maybe your buddies up at HQ will let you off early on good behavior."

Before Ross could fully take in what was just said and work up some sort of reply, Brian simply walked out with no other word, closing the door behind him. In the stark silence left behind, Ross could do nothing more than drop back down in his seat, feeling some level of shell-shocked by the interactions he had today. He glanced at the stack of work in front of him, and back at the closed door for a couple of minutes until all the information he'd just received could process.

Than Ross dropped his elbows on his desk and his head in his hands and groaned.

"God, what have I got myself into?"


	2. Chapter 2

Barry strode down the dim basement hall purposefully. He could see from this distance that Brian's office was dark, and knew the man had gone home for the evening. He could also see light shining out from the open office door across the hall. His target was still working, though it was now after seven o'clock on a Friday evening.

He rounded the corner of Ross' doorway, knocking on the frame as he entered, opening his mouth to deliver a greeting. He was cut off before he began, however.

"God fucking dammit!" Ross screeched out, slamming his fist down on the top of his desk before crumpling up the piece of paper in front of him and tossing it with as much vehemence as possible onto a growing pile spilling from his wastebasket.

"Look Barry, I know I told you I was going to stick this out," Ross said, voice almost shaking with his irritation, "but I cannot take another week like this! I haven't been out on a single case since I got here." He tossed up his arms. "I've been typing up reports for almost a month. I'm not his fucking secretary!"

"And all of these?" Barry asked, nodding at the pile of trash Ross had built up. Ross shook his head, averting his eyes.

"Trying to find a way to 'apologize' to my superiors back in the city," he spat out, as if the mere mention of it was distasteful. "Maybe they'll transfer me back."

Barry was beginning to get to know Ross. When he moved upstate, Ross had already secured a small apartment, but he didn't have a vehicle. Barry had volunteered right away to give him rides; their places were only about two blocks apart, and it was on his way anyway. And in the slightly more than three weeks he'd known Ross now, Barry already knew that the man must be close to the end of his rope if he was willing to consider an apology and humble himself to get out. Barry really liked this one, though, and he didn't want to see Ross act too hastily.

"What you need right now is a break," Barry stated, stepping up to and around the desk and waving for Ross to get up. "There's a little place not far from here, I usually go every Friday, but I haven't been in a few weeks." He paused as Ross looked up at him. "I think you need a drink."

"Now you're speaking my language," Ross answered gratefully, at his wits end and more than ready to try to drink it out of his mind, for an evening at least. He stood, slamming his chair back into the desk just a little too hard, for good measure, and followed Barry out, locking the door as he left.  
_______________________

An hour later, Ross was halfway through his second beer. Barry had been chatting amiably with him, nursing the same bottle and mostly just enjoying having someone to talk to again when he went out. Up to then they had been talking about the usual things they covered during the rides home; Ross would tell Barry about his childhood in Australia and Barry would return with his own upbringing, there in the same town they both now worked in.

There was a lull in the conversation where Barry seemed to be pondering his own thoughts, and a new question occurred to Ross, remembering what his colleague had said earlier.

"So, you said this was a regular thing for you?" Ross asked, holding up his beer and waving his arm to indicate the bar itself before taking another long swig. Barry glanced up, brought back from wherever he'd been, but didn't miss a beat. 

"Yeah, every Friday night," Barry said, expression fond with the memory. "Dan, Brian and I used to come here after work and just talk for awhile. Danny wasn't much of a drinker, but he wouldn't miss an opportunity to just hang out." Barry sighed, taking a quick sip of his own beer. "Brian does most of his drinking alone now, but I still like to come here regularly. It helps me to unwind."

Ross looked at his drinking partner across the table, watching the subtle play of emotions in his blue-green eyes as he looked at some indistinct point off to Ross' right. Maybe it was the buzz he was feeling from the second beer, or his investigative nature, or perhaps he was just more interested than he originally thought, but suddenly Ross felt like he wanted to know a lot more about what happened three years ago. And, to tell the truth, he wanted to know why he was putting up with all the bullshit at work.

"Look, Barry, honestly," Ross began, tone gone serious and eyes as sincere as possible, "I'm not ready to quit just yet. I mean, I just can't stand the thought of having to look at any one of those assholes back at the precinct knowing they won."

Barry smiled slightly at Ross' defiant tone.

"Yeah, I didn't think so," he said with a little huff of laughter.

"But, I really can't take it like this. I need to be able to do my job." Ross sighed heavily, finishing off his drink. "And, frankly, Wecht could use all the help he can get," he grumbled.

"I promise Ross, when you come in on Monday, you'll get to actually work." When Ross looked at him in disbelief, Barry was forced to continue. "I'll talk to him. He's just seeing if he can get rid of you easily. Believe it or not, he may actually start to respect you now that you've made it this far."

Ross raised his eyebrows at that.

"No promises on that part, though," Barry was quick to add. Ross just shook his head.

"But that's the thing right there. Why? I want to know why I have to prove myself to him. I went to school, I earned my badge." Ross was trying not to get overly frustrated; he was genuinely curious. "I mean, I only know what you told me the first day, really. I can understand some grieving for a partner or anger over the case not being solved, but Christ, it's been three years! You're telling me he's just been like this all that time?"

Ross had a hard time believing that Detective Wecht had ever been anything but the cold, hard asshole he'd been working with for almost a month. If there was more of an explanation as to why, it was eating at him to discover it. Barry leaned back in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, clearly considering how much he wanted to say. Ross almost felt bad for asking, but not enough to take it back.

"Dan and Brian weren't just long time partners," Barry began wistfully, "they were best friends. They met in college, attended the academy together. They got posted to the same precinct within a few months of each other, and within two years they were partners." Barry met Ross' eyes. "They spent a lot of time together, you know? And not just the time in the office and in the field." 

"So really close then?" Ross asked, more to acknowledge he'd got all that than anything else. Barry nodded solemnly, finishing off his beer as if it were enough to make the memories easier to recall.

"Brian got letters, after Dan disappeared," he said, quiet enough that Ross had to lean in to keep listening. "The killer taunted him for three days." Barry looked down at the table top with undue fascination. "Even told him where to find the body."

Ross took in a sharp breath at that, the news more unexpected than shocking. He felt a twinge of sympathy, and a little guilt, forming in his gut. He flagged a waitress, getting two more beers. At this point he was more than willing to spring for a cab for them both; he was starting to think Barry needed a few more drinks than he'd been planning on.

"The case went cold after that. Whoever was doing it hasn't killed anyone since." Barry shook his head. "Three murders in three years, and then nothing for another three. The longer it takes, the more I think Brian believes he'll never find the perp."

Reasonable, Ross thought. It was unusual for a serial killer to just up and stop out of nowhere after such a consistent pattern of cool down between victims. Maybe something happened to him, or he moved on to a new area to victimize. The frustration alone in that situation would certainly be enough to give Ross a bad attitude. He focused again as Barry caught his gaze.

"About a month before you arrived here, the word came down that the case was being officially put on hold. No more department resources can be spent on working it until some form of new evidence surfaces." Barry turned away then, noticing the new beer that had showed up in front of him and immediately taking a long pull from the bottle.

"Wait, so they're giving up on it, just like that? I mean, it's not like this is the busiest police department in the area." Ross protested, surprised at that particular bit of information. He could certainly see now why Brian might be more agitated than usual.

"Cutbacks to funding," Barry answered in a mocking, sarcastic voice, also showing his own irritation with the situation. "It was the day after that news came in that Brian's last partner left. Honestly, I think he may have been a bit frightened. Let's just say Brian got a little...upset when the word came down."

"I can imagine," Ross answered. He eyed Barry with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry I brought all this up. I didn't want to ruin your evening."

Barry sighed, the melancholy on his face apparent. "No, it's okay," he responded, clarifying at Ross' skeptical expression, "really. You deserve to know." He paused then, rotating the bottle in his hands for a few moments before fixing serious eyes on Ross across the table. 

"I won't say that all this excuses the way he treats you, Ross. Just..." Barry huffed out a breath through his nose, trying to find words to make Ross understand what he meant. "Just try to remember it when you're speaking to him. It actually makes it a little easier to deal with him," he finally said with a mirthless chuckle. Ross raised his bottle and tipped it in Barry's direction.

"You're a good man, Barry Kramer, watching out for someone like that," Ross said, nodding at the man in front of him. Barry hinted at a grin, raising his own bottle.

"Just trying to help a friend," he responded, tapping his beer to Ross' before they both took a drink. He swallowed, lowering his bottle with a thud on the table. "I just wish he'd remember that once in awhile," he added quietly.

The two finished their drinks in companionable silence, each one with enough on their mind to fill the rest of the evening without conversation. Ross had already determined to do a little reading on the case himself over the weekend. The more he knew about it, he felt, the better equipped he would be to deal with his difficult, and seemingly damaged, partner.

It wasn't because Ross wanted to help the man though. Not a man who didn't even want to accept the help of an actual friend, let alone someone he didn't know or want to know. No, Ross just wanted to know to satisfy that ever present investigator inside of him. That was it. After all, why else would he want to help out someone who didn't even respect him?


	3. Chapter 3

Arin Hanson leaned forward, resting his elbows on the top of the picnic table and leaning into the burger he held in both hands, taking a large bite and smiling in satisfaction. He'd been walking around town for a few hours already, and the activity had definitely given him an appetite. Luckily, his route today took him back here, to the "best burger joint in town" as the locals would say.

Activity from across the street caught his attention, and he glanced over his sunglasses while taking another bite. Detective Wecht and his new partner were grabbing their midday coffees at the variety store, and as they were exiting the place, Arin could see they were in the midst of an argument. 

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. He'd been watching the pair all morning as they went from business to business in the area questioning people. Arin had heard on his police scanner that there had been a suspicious death reported downtown, and had come down early, parked his car at the library and walked out near the scene of the incident. One roll of film later and Arin was pretty sure he had already got some good shots of the new detective in action.

Still, he wasn't one to pass up an opportunity, quickly placing his sandwich down and grabbing his camera from the seat beside him, taking a second to make sure the two were still engaged and unlikely to see him. He swung the camera up over the table top and leaned forward slightly, working fast to adjust his lens and zoom in close. He snapped a series of shots in quick succession as the two detectives made their way back to Wecht's beat up old '79 Malibu, making sure to get them both in this time, delighting in the way the new guy was actually getting under the old man's skin. Arin couldn't remember the last time Wecht was that animated, gesturing while he spoke, and more heated than normal.

Arin put the camera aside, returning to his lunch as he watched the two pull away, the car screeching by and swinging around the next corner, out of sight. He smiled, nodding to himself.  
\-------------------------

Later that evening, Arin sat at his drawing table in the corner of the small living area of the little one bedroom mobile home he was renting. He had taped up the best of the pictures he'd taken today in a large five by five photo square, and was pulling out a notebook from the backpack he had resting alongside the chair leg. He flipped through the myriad of notes gathered today, from the various phone calls he made and the records and newspaper articles he checked over after lunch.

"Sargent Ross O'Donovan," Arin said to himself, scanning the information before gazing back up at the pictures. Short, soft looking chocolate brown hair, stunning blue eyes, an expressive face with high cheekbones. And definitely no push over this time, showing a fiery temper and defiant streak in all the interactions Arin had witnessed so far. It was strange and exciting to see one of Wecht's partners actually standing up to him. In the last row of images, Arin was struck again at how unusual it was to see someone push the older detective's buttons so quickly and so soundly.

Arin had high hopes for this one. The last four partners hadn't stuck around very long, though more than one had made it further than this one had so far. But this time, something was different. This O'Donovan looked to be in it for the long haul. Arin was eager for it, afraid that he might not find someone suitable in time.

He was starting to crave it; the thrill, the attention, the companionship. Dan had been special, the memories of their time together satisfying Arin's desire for far longer than his previous interests had. Even now when he looked at the pictures he'd taken of Dan during that time, he still felt a bit of that warmth wash over him. But it wasn't enough anymore. Watching Wecht's decline over the last three years had finally got boring as well, and the two things together were beginning to eat at him for action.

Arin stood, pulling down the best of the photos he'd taken of Ross, staring intently at it for several minutes. The longer he looked, the more appealing the image became, and he began to imagine the voice he'd heard earlier, clear Australian accent refreshing after nothing but locals for so long. Arin definitely wanted to get to know this man better.

"I'm going to be keeping a close eye on you, Ross," Arin stated at the man in the picture, tone first admiring, though becoming sinister when he continued. "You'd better not disappoint me."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Don’t give in, don’t give up, I’ll be gone. I don’t look innocent enough. We’re too young to be cynics, we won’t wish any harm at all. Don’t give in, don’t give up, no one looks innocent with this big big mess on our hands tonight."_

Ross crossed the hall, entering Brian's office, his head down as he looked over his finalized report of their most recent case. It wasn't until he stepped up to the desk that he realized Brian wasn't there. Ross was momentarily at a loss.

Normally when Brian wasn't in, his door was closed and locked. Even if he just took a bathroom break, he'd lock it up, and Ross quickly became convinced that it was done specifically for his benefit. There weren't a lot of visitors down here as it was, other than Barry, and Ross knew Brian wouldn't lock it on Barry anyway.

"Well, thank god for small miracles," Ross muttered sarcastically to himself. It only took a little over two months to get access to this office. He supposed he should be pleased he was allowed in at all, recognizing at this point that the gesture was likely an indication that Brian was actually beginning to trust him a little more. Or maybe the old man just appreciated that Ross didn't take all his bullshit sitting down.

Ross decided to take advantage of the rare opportunity. He hadn't really had much of a look around the room yet, choosing to spend as little time in here as possible on the few occasions he actually had to. His initial assessment of the room seemed to be accurate, as everything was neat and in place. The desk was clean and clear, the typewriter with its cover on, no folders or papers on top of the filing cabinets. Even the trash can was nearly empty. The walls were still bare as well, the dull concrete gray color only adding to the empty feeling that permeated the space.

Ross' eye was drawn to the one thing on the desk that seemed almost pleasantly out of place. The small, wooden picture frame stood next to the typewriter, facing away from the door such that you couldn't make out the photo inside unless you were behind the desk. The image itself was an everyday picture, taken on someone's personal camera, out in front of this building.

On the right was Brian, clean shaven and hair darker, with an expression very similar to the intense stare Ross found so familiar now, though something was different. Something in his eyes, his stance maybe, or it could just be how much younger he looked. If it hadn't been taken right outside, Ross would have guessed it was from more than a decade ago rather than within the last few years.

On the left was who Ross knew for certain had to be Dan. Even if the very fact that the photo was here, or that Barry had commented that Brian kept a picture at the office, didn't give it away, the person in the photo definitely fit the image he had in mind from all the things Barry had told him in the few weeks they'd gone drinking together. Dan was a tall, thin, handsome man with an unruly set of brown curls and an expressive face. He was smiling, one hand in his pocket while the other was waving at the camera.

"Do you actually need something, or did you just come in here to go through my things?" Brian asked from the doorway. Ross jumped reflexively, catching the tiny smirk Brian gave at the reaction, and placed the picture back down.

"Well you know, I was so shocked the door was opened, I just had to investigate," Ross answered nonchalantly. He held up the report in his hand as Brian entered the room before dropping it on his desk top. "The latest report, ready to file," he added.

Brian rounded the desk and flipped open the folder, sitting down and checking it over as Ross stood by, waiting. After a few moments, Brian closed the report and nodded. It was another minute before he looked up to see Ross still standing there.

"Is there something else?" Brian asked impatiently. 

Ross took a deep breath. He'd gone to Brian's office ostensibly to deliver the report, but in actuality, he had something more to discuss, and he honestly wasn't looking forward to it. But it wasn't likely to ever really be a better time to ask about this, so might as well get it over with now.

"Actually, yeah. I wanted to do some reading on some of the cold cases, you know, maybe some fresh eyes on some of them..." Ross hesitated for a moment when he saw Brian's eyes widen marginally, face paling a bit as he continued, "And I happened to notice that one of the files is missing, and I wondered if you-"

Ross was cut off abruptly as Brian stood up, his chair flying back into the wall with the force. He leaned forward, within a few inches of Ross' face.

"Don't," he said roughly, tone almost threatening in itself. Ross decided to push his luck, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head.

"Oh, you know which one I'm talking about then?" he said, a little too casually. Almost instantly, he found one of Brian's fists gripping his collar, as he was yanked up a bit, the pressure of the hold slightly choking him. Perhaps he'd pushed a little too much...

"Don't fuck with me, O'Donovan!" Brian growled. "I'm telling you right now, stay away from that case." He let go of Ross then, but kept his eyes fixed on the other man's, glaring. "It's off limits."

Ross took a moment to recover when Brian backed away and turned, pacing around his desk in clear agitation. He could see the anger in those eyes when Brian had stared at him, but he saw something else as well, something that he found odd and a bit intriguing. 

Brian had almost looked a little, well, scared. Possibly even terrified, both his look and tone betraying it, however briefly. But why he would be, Ross was uncertain. Maybe he had some sort of posttraumatic stress related to the case; considering some of the circumstances of the event, Ross wouldn't be surprised. Yet somehow, it didn't quite feel like that to him.

"I just thought you might appreciate some help with it. I mean, I know you wanna find Dan's killer-" Ross tried to reason, but was cut off again when Brian stopped his circuit, stepping back toward him, not quite close enough to touch him with the index finger he was currently pointing with. Ross almost wondered if he should maneuver the desk between them as well, just to be safer.

"Look, I don't care what you think you know about the case, or whatever Kramer has told you about it or me, or Danny for that matter," Brian snarled. "Stay. Out of it." 

Ross wasn't always the smartest when getting into these kinds of conversations, and he couldn't deny he liked a good argument sometimes, but he also had enough sense to know when it was well and fully over. He raised his hands in a placating gesture and backed to the door, turning to leave as Brian watched. He stopped as he heard Brian speak again, voice quieter but rigid, under control once again.

"And don't mention Danny again."

Ross only nodded once, as non-committal as he dared in the current situation, and walked out, closing the door behind him. He crossed the hall to his own office, shutting that door as well, and plopped down in his chair, drained. He rubbed at his throat where it was still a bit sore from Brian's grip, and Ross felt fairly lucky that he didn't just get strangled outright, all things considered.

Of course, now he knew he definitely had to learn more about the murders, and he knew to keep the activity out of his partner's sight. Ross ran his hands into his hair, tugging a little and making a grunting noise, looking up as if the ceiling light might have the answers.

"That certainly could have gone a little better," he muttered as he slumped forward, thumping his head on the desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quotes all come from songs featured on a playlist made for this fic by [Cottonstones](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Cottonstones/pseuds/Cottonstones). Quotes will be added to all chapters...eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of complicated personal issues prevented this story from being completed. I have chipped away at it for over a year in hopes of finally finishing it. It is close to my heart, and I want to see it through very badly. If there is interest, I will add more of what I have written. I usually don't post unfinished works (though I rarely finish series), since I write out of order, make changes, and have trouble completing things. But, I hope that will change this time. Thanks for reading.


End file.
